Body in Focus
by yamanashi ochinashi iminashi
Summary: With the slip of the tongue, Krauser made it known that Umbrella was trying to resurface once again. Leon is determined to put a stop to it, but old acquaintances seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times. Post RE4.
1. Home Sweet Home

_Disclaimer: Blah blah, Resident Evil, yadda yadda yadda Capcom._

Takes place directly after RE:4, but skips around a bit after words.

**Prologue: Home sweet home**

**---**

By the time the chopper touched down just outside DC, Ashley had sunk into a thankfully dreamless exhausted sleep, her blonde head pillowed against Leon's arm. His eyes were glassy from fatigue, but he refused to let them close, the past couple of days leaving him overly alert and more paranoid than usual. He wouldn't be able to rest peacefully until Ashley was in protective custody and he was debriefed and released to head home for some much needed R and R, the image of some unforeseen problem jumping out at them as soon as he let his guard down being all that kept him conscious.

When the dust stirred up from the overhead propellers died down, Leon stepped out of the helicopter and scooped Ashley into his arms, watching the pilot, a seemingly easygoing guy that Leon had known only in passing at the agency, slip off to the hangar out of the corner of his eye.

The clack of heels on pavement drew his attention back to the airstrip, a weary grin flitting halfheartedly across his lips.

Ingrid Hunnigan's hair was pulled back into a low ponytail that swung as she walked, her dark hair reaching her lower back, wire rimmed glasses once again perched on her nose. She stopped in front of Leon, face almost level with his in her heels.

Taking her in for the first time face to face, Leon let a tired smile out over the blond head in his arms, shifting Ashley to a more comfortable position.

"You're taller than I'd imagined."

Hunnigan allowed herself a smile before getting straight to business.

-----

Ashley was taken by secret service straight from the private airport to be returned home, Leon on the other hand, had the unpleasant task of reporting straight to headquarters without so much as a cup off coffee to wake him up. He rode with Hunnigan in the back of one of the many nondescript SUV's that the U.S. government was overly fond of using, tinted windows keeping out the majority of light from the rising sun.

Hunnigan draped one long leg over another as she regarded the agent in front of her. Covered in bruises, splotches of blood, some of which was his, and a general coating of dust and debris, he was, for the most part, unharmed. They hadn't been kidding when they said he was the best.

"Ma'am," Hunnigan nodded, eyes never leaving Leon, to acknowledge one of the two other black suites that were riding with them.

"Yes?"

"We'll be rendezvousing with General Miller at 0800 hours, until then he suggests that you start the report and debriefing of Agent Kennedy."

Hunnigan finally slid her eyes away from Leon, who was staring blankly out at the moving landscape; head cushioned against his palm, and regarded the suit next to her.

"Are we inconveniencing him this early?"

"No, Ma'am. General Miller just wishes to have this mess wrapped up as quickly as possible."

She resisted the urge to scoff. Knowing the General, her phone call earlier that morning about the return of the President's daughter had more than likely cut into one of his planned fishing trips, and rather than reschedule he had decided to foist the work onto her. 'Typical male behavior,' she thought, 'leave the cleaning up for the woman to do.'

Returning her attention to Leon she found him facing her, arms resting on his thighs as he leaned inward, looking as if he wanted to say something but unsure of how to go about it.

"Leon?"

His storm grey eyes flickered up to meet hers briefly before falling back to whatever predetermined spot near the floor he had been focusing on until then.

"I'm leaving."

Hunnigan's brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

This time when Leon looked up, he held her eyes with his, "The agency. I'll stay on until I can find a suitable replacement, but after that I'm gone."

A pause as shock sank into Hunnigan's expression, then-

"You better have a damn good explanation as to why, Kennedy!" The hard edge of anger sounding odd in her soft voice.

The two other suits didn't move, but a shift behind dark glasses told Leon they were now both focusing on him and his forthcoming explanation.

It wasn't a widely known fact that he was one of a handful of survivors from Raccoon city and the subsequent viral outbreak there, even if the 'zombie' aspect was subject to skepticism, but it was in his file, along with his long list of anti-Umbrella campaigns. So Hunnigan understood what he meant when he simply replied, "Something from my past I thought was finished."

She let it rest, for the moment anyways.

-----

An hour and a half later Leon was allowed to return home, with the added instructions of an explanation for Hunnigan sometime in the next 72 hours, after he'd showered and had a chance to eat something and work on those bags he was developing under his eyes. He was dropped off across the street from his apartment building, the black SUV disappearing into the midmorning light.

Sam, the doorman, greeted him as he crossed the street.

"Mornin' Leon!" He waved cheerfully, "Beautiful day to--Whoa!" Sam's hat all but slid off his head at the whiplash of Sam's first good look at his tenant.

"Rough day at work." Leon supplied as he slipped through the door, aware that the blood and obvious display of firearms he was sporting would no doubt be the topic of gossip for weeks to come, not that he was planning to be here then.

Foregoing the elevator and the group of rubbernecks inside, Leon headed for the stairs. He only lived on the third floor of an eight floor building, but the climb was tiring and didn't seem to do any good for his leg, the clotted wound that Ada had given him--

Leon paused in his climb, to catch his breath as much as to ponder the one person he really didn't feel up to thinking about at the moment. Ada Wong. He had figured that she was alive when rumors of her working for Wesker had been brought in by Chris Redfield from a return trip to Brazil, an outing that was otherwise uneventful. He had never expected to run into her himself, the Asian beauty all but a distant memory that he only thought of when the rare nightmare of Raccoon City kept him awake at night.

Another thought brought a self-deprecating smile to his lips as callused fingers ran across the shallow cut on his face. 'Of course Ada wasn't the only one to come crawling back from the dead for a surprise visit.'

Krauser was most assuredly dead this time, but his momentary slip of the tongue had brought back a hole slew of the dead, 'hopefully not literally,' he thought as he continued his trek up the narrow stairs.

Umbrella seemed to be the monkey on his back that he just couldn't get rid of, no matter how many operations of theirs he killed, and the act had worn thin years ago.

Finally, Leon arrived at the door to his apartment. His key had been returned to him upon his debriefing, no way would he have been able to keep track of the blasted little thing in Europe, and unlocked the door to fall unceremoniously into his spartanesque home.

He had enough energy and sense of mind to lock and deadbolt the door, but forgot his boots and harness as he fell onto his bed, his breath evened out into the rhythm of sleep before the springs had stopped bouncing.

-----

It was dark when Leon finally awoke, the blinking red LED lights of his alarm clock flashing 12:00 uselessly. It had to be late, or at least really early as the only thing on the television was infomercials. Forgoing figuring out the time, or what day it was, Leon headed off to the bathroom, discarding his blood stained and dirty clothing along the way.

The ache in his side and stiff muscles from sleeping on his gun was dulled in the blessedly hot spray of the shower, but stung the open wound on his thigh and wherever else skin had been cut open in his pursuit of the President's daughter. Regardless, he stayed till the water ran clear of blood and grew cold, only getting out when goose bumps threatened to devour him whole. Antiseptic and bandages was followed with a towel slung hastily over his hips as he headed for the small alcove that passed for a kitchen.

Leon ate standing, dripping water onto his hardwood floors as he stood in nothing but a towel in the middle of his kitchen, orange juice drank straight from the carton.

Afterwards he crawled back in bed, wrapping the mussed sheets around him in a cocoon as he slept, the voice of Jack Krauser mocking him in his dreams; Umbrella, umbrella, umbrella.

-----

Next: A meeting with Ingrid Hunnigan reveals exactly why Leon must leave, as well as some certain numbers.

_Prologue Completed 11-14-05_


	2. Num3ers

_Disclaimer: Blah blah, Resident Evil, yadda yadda yadda Capcom._

My love of Hunnigan shows through here.

**Chapter One: Num3ers**

-----

Leon was met with applause and wolf whistles when he walked into Agency Headquarters two days after he had arrived home, the occasional agent and trainee slapping him on the back. He took it in good faith but continued on his path, ignoring the cries of what had happened from his fellow spooks. The rumors would be making their way around soon enough, and no matter how bizarre they got, they'd still be more believable than the truth.

He had to go through two checkpoints to get to Ingrid Hunnigan's office, but once past those he breezed through the doors as if he owned the place, shutting her thick oak door firmly behind him.

The slam of oak in the doorframe sent several papers flying from Hunnigan's hand as she sat up in her desk, glasses held lightly in her left hand as her right shuffled the scattered papers before her.

"Kennedy!"

Leon smirked at the flustered tone in her voice before replying in kind, "Hunnigan."

Ingrid put her glasses down on the desk as she shuffled the papers into a semblance of order, using the distraction to do the same with herself.

In the short time he had known Hunnigan, Leon had never seen her look anything other than the picture of calm. He had to admit, with her face flushed and hair hanging loose around her shoulders as she tried to reel herself together, she had never looked cuter.

"You know," Leon ventured, striding up to lean against her desk, "You never did answer my question the other day."

Ingrid paused halfway between brushing her hair from her face and reaching for an escapee paper that had slid to the far side of her desk.

"What question?" It was asked in the breathless way of a woman who couldn't believe she had forgotten something.

Leon's grin turned predatory.

"Whether or not you were going to give me your number."

Ingrid actually blushed, the color rising up her neck in a flush of heat as she tried to busy herself once more with cleaning up her desk.

"I thought I gave you an answer." She avoided looking at Leon when he handed her one of the stray papers.

"No, you just reminded me that I was still on the job. Now that Ashley is home, safe and sound, I thought I'd ask again. You know," Leon winked, "Now that I'm off."

The color rose up Hunnigan's face as she tried to redirect the conversation, "Surely that isn't the reason you came in today?"

Leon grabbed a nearby chair and straddled it, all playfulness aside as his arms rested on the back, "My resignation."

Had Ingrid not studied Leon's file and personality evaluations, she would have been surprised at the sudden change in his behavior, as it was however; she was just slightly caught off guard. She rolled with it though.

"I suspect the reappearance of your old squad mate, Jack Krauser, had something to do with it, but I'm still fuzzy on the full reason behind it."

Leon looked down at his interlocked arms, "Off the record?"

Hunnigan frowned, but nodded after a moment of consideration.

"There was someone else there. Someone I knew from before."

"Leon--"

"I don't want to get them involved, so don't bother asking names. They're not in any of your little files on me either. The important thing is I know who they're working for, the same person Krauser was reporting to as well."

"I thought Saddler was…" Ingrid trailed off at Leon's look.

"Krauser was working for a man called Wesker, Albert Wesker. One of the men directly responsible for the creation of the T-virus, as well as it's sub sequential infection of Raccoon City, and also the only known possessor of all variants of the virus to date, and now a queen sample of the parasites as well."

He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, an old habit that he'd never been able to shake.

"I think he's trying to rebuild Umbrella, and from what I can gather, he's already well into the process of it."

"And you want to stop him from accomplishing that?"

Leon laughed, but the sound was anything but joyful, "Want has nothing to do with it. This is something I need to do. I thought I could close the door on all my skeletons, but that seems to have turned and bit me on the ass."

They sat in silence, contemplating what had been said.

"I've already got a replacement lined up; he can take over for me while I'm gone. He's a good man, I've worked with him before and he has a similar background. It'll take him a few months to wrap things up where he is now, but I can stay on till then."

Leon stood up and dug a scrap of paper from his back pocket, "He's on loan to another agency at the moment, but he can transfer fairly easily if you put in a request."

Hunnigan took the paper and smoothed it with practiced ease, taking in the swift handwriting in a glance.

"Ark Thompson. Why do I know that name?"

"He had a run in with some of Umbrella's nastier products out on Sheena Island."

Hunnigan nodded, "You weren't kidding about the similar backgrounds. Alright, I'll put in a transfer request," Hunnigan looked up from her desk at Leon, "We can count on you till then." It wasn't a question.

Leon had turned to go when Ingrid stood up, her voice halting him at the door.

"Wait, Leon!"

He turned halfway, one hand still on the door handle as she walked up to him.

"I just wanted to give you this, " She handed him a card with her name and station printed on it, on the backside written in blue ink was a number.

"It's my number." A raised eyebrow and smirk from Leon almost brought the flush to her face again, but she managed to shake it off, "It's my home number, so call me, sometime, before you leave town."

Cheeky grin, "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me."

Ingrid laughed as she pushed Leon out of her office with a casual, "later, Mr. Kennedy."

"You can bet on that." And then he was gone, his parting remark leaving her giggling like a schoolgirl against the heavy oak door of her office.

-----

Next: Months have past, during which Leon and Ingrid have grown close, but before Leon's replacement can take over, something unexpected happens that almost stops his pursuit of Umbrella before it can begin.

_Chapter One Completed 11-15-05_


	3. Bang, Baby, Bang

_Disclaimer: Blah blah Resident Evil yadda yadda yadda Capcom_

Yeah…I'm still not sure what I was thinking here. Short as well.

**Chapter Two: Bang, Baby, Bang**

-----

Two days. Months of waiting for his replacement, and two days before Ark arrived some wacko with a gun and a grudge had tried to take out the President. Leon did his job and disposed of the would be assassin, but not without him getting a couple of shots in first.

Leon lay on his back, the ceiling of the banquet hall where the Benefit Dinner had been held flashed in and out of focus as the lights from the hundred Press cameras covering the event went off around him. He could hear someone shouting at him, but they sounded far away. Turning his head he caught sight of Ashley, still dressed in the pale baby pink dress he had jokingly said made her look like a birthday cake. She was reaching towards him, the fuzzy noise that must have been her calling his name emanating in circles as two armed men in black suites held her back.

He wondered why she would be crying when warm hands turned his face back up towards the ceiling, only to focus in on Ingrid Hunnigan's pretty face instead. Her hair was loose, just how he liked it, curling around her face in gentle waves. Her hand pressed on his ribcage, pain flaring through his body as she continued to apply pressure. Her face was already starting to blur when dark spots started to dance above her head, and then he saw nothing.

-----

**Earlier that day:**

Ingrid awoke to the sound of Leon cursing, loudly and with imaginative creativity. She rolled over to prop herself up on her side with her elbow, the sheet sliding to her waist as she did so, leaving her sleep mussed hair to cover her breasts, a task it didn't seem to want to partake much care in accomplishing. She grinned when Leon ran past the open doorway, pants only buttoned halfway and shoes untied, no shirt to speak of, an exceptionally explicit curse tumbling from his lips.

"I seriously doubt you could do that without hurting yourself." She called out as he disappeared behind the doorframe. A moment later he leaned back around to look at her, his hair sticking up in the back.

"Do you happen to remember where my shirt disappeared to last night?"

The smirk that graced her lips would have put the Cheshire cat to shame, "I'm still wondering how we made it as far as the bedroom myself."

Leon's trademark smirk was followed by a rushed, "Oh shit!" as he caught sight of the clock again, his upper body disappearing once more around the doorframe.

She waited a moment before pulling a wrinkled gray shirt from under the sheets where it had entangled itself around her legs.

Moments later Leon ran back into the room, hair less disheveled and shoes tied, a muttered curse dying in his throat when he caught sight of Ingrid. She was sitting cross-legged on the edge of her bed, his missing shirt the only thing she was wearing as she held up the flip calendar that had been sitting next to her alarm clock.

Leon groaned, shoulders sagging in defeat, "You couldn't have reminded me earlier?"

Ingrid leaned over and switched the clock back an hour as she set the calendar back down, "What? And miss out on that little display?"

Leon advanced on her, "Devil woman. You enjoy torturing me, don't you?"

She giggled as he pushed her back into the mattress, one hand snaking under the shirt to skate over her abdomen, the other wrapped behind her neck, thumb brushing against her earlobe as he knelt over her.

"Mmm…" Ingrid's body curved upward towards him, neck supported by his hand, "We really should be getting ready." Her body language implying anything but.

"Hn. I didn't think attending fancy dress parties were a part of the job description," he paused to place an open mouthed kiss above her collarbone, then pulled away teasingly, "But if I must…"

She gasped as callused fingers continued their move upward, cupping the sensitive skin.

"No, stay!" Ingrid mewled, hands holding him in place by his belt loops.

A breathless chuckle was followed by his lips descending on hers, heat soaring through her belly at the force of it, leaving her breathless and flustered when he pulled away.

"Stay." The word slid out in a breathy moan, the meaning changed, barely intelligible. Leon stopped. Staring into her eyes when she opened them, the deep mahogany reflecting what she hadn't said: _Forget Umbrella, let someone else deal with it. Stay here, with me._

Leon's voice cached, but he didn't look away. "I can't."

Ingrid smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, "Somehow I knew you'd say that."

"Doesn't hurt to ask, though." Leon finished, returning the same sad smile, his hands still and warm on her skin.

Ingrid pulled him in for a kiss, her hands on either side of his face, Leon's arms tightening around her, pulling her into him, his apology bittersweet on her tongue.

-----

Next: The aftermath

_Chapter Two Completed 11-17-05_


	4. Aftermath

_Disclaimer: Blah blah Resident Evil yadda yadda yadda Capcom_

Updates will be sporadic and far between during, and probably after, the holidays.

**Chapter Three: Aftermath**

-----

An unfamiliar ceiling greeted Leon when his eyes snapped open. Confusion disorientating him. He was still on his back, but whatever he was laying on had more give than the dance floor where he had been shot down.

Leon winced at the memory, one hand raising to his chest only to be stopped by the painful tug of the I.V. in his arm. With a groan Leon tried to lift his other arm, a sharp pain in his shoulder halting him. The appendage dropped back to his side, the pain throbbing in remembrance.

A door clicked shut somewhere off to his left, his head turning to follow the sound.

White coat, clipboard and an air of importance you only get after spending an excess of eight years at college adorned the middle aged man that entered.

Leon held back the urge to wince as a fresh wave of pain emanated from his chest as he gathered enough breath to speak. "What's the damage, Doc.?" His voice portraying an ease he didn't feel.

The doctor, one Halbert M.D. according to his nametag, looked up from his clipboard, "Officially?"

Leon nodded as best as he could in a recumbent position.

"Well, sadly," Doctor Halbert's voice completely serious, "you died from complications during surgery."

Leon let out a pained bark of laughter, "I'm in too much pain to be dead."

Dr. Halbert let a small smile break the professional mask plastered to his face. "You were shot twice, the first bullet passing completely through your right shoulder, two centimeters from what appears to be an older bullet wound. It's a clean wound and should heal with a minimal amount of scarring within a few weeks, given adequate rest."

"And the second?" Leon gasped out, the task of speaking becoming more difficult with every labored breath.

"That would be the real reason you're in here. The second shot entered your body at an upward angle, skimming across your left lung and lodging itself against your opposing shoulder blade. Had your lung collapsed, or the angle of entry been slightly altered, your spine would have most likely been the unlucky structure in that slugs way. You're lucky to be alive."

"I thought you said I died during surgery."

"That would be my doing." The unnoticed opening of the door caught Leon off guard as Ingrid Hunnigan walked into the room, the dark green dress from the party replaced with blue sweatpants and a too large t-shirt.

At Leon's questioning look and sweeping glance of her unusual attire, Ingrid went with the simpler of her two explanations.

"I haven't had time to run home and change, so rather than walk around in a bloodstained dress I borrowed some clothes from one of the trainees."

"Bloodstained?" Leon sat up in shock, ignoring the flair of pain in the sudden movement as he ran his eyes once more over Ingrid.

She didn't quite run to him, but she was at his side in an instant, pushing him back gently onto the bed, "You shouldn't move just yet, and I'm fine." She smiled but her voice betrayed the worry she felt, "You just bleed like a stuck pig is all."

"Gee, thanks."

Ingrid just smiled. Her hair had been hastily pulled back, but tendrils of it were escaping and winding down the back of her neck.

The forgotten Dr. Halbert handed Ingrid a rolled paper that she had unknowingly dropped at some point, and then excused himself from the room with parting instructions for Leon to get plenty of rest and not overexert himself for the next couple of weeks.

When the door had clicked close behind them Ingrid unfolded the newspaper. It was dated the morning after the Benefit Diner, Leon's own face in black and white staring back at him from the front page. Above the photo it read: Hero dies after saving President.

"Why?"

"I figured it would be easier to investigate Umbrella if they thought you to be already dead."

Leon returned Ingrid's smile. They stayed like that for a moment before Ingrid coltishly averted her eyes, "Plus it leaves less paper work for me to fill out."

Leon's laughter quickly reverted to choking coughs, Ingrid helping him up to rub his back in soothing circles until he caught his breath. He propped himself up on the arm with the I.V. in it, his other arm laying across his lap.

"I need to get out of here."

"Dr, Halbert said you need rest-"

"Then I can rest at home."

Ingrid looked away quickly, avoiding his questioning look.

"What?"

"It's government housing. Once you were proclaimed dead, they reclaimed it. I'll be able to get your stuff released into my possession once they finish boxing it up, but until then you really don't have a home to return too."

"Oh." Leon made as if to lay back down.

Ingrid returned her gaze to Leon, the hint of a smile playing at each corner of her mouth, "I was going to offer up my place and play bed nurse, that is unless you'd rather stay here."

Leon smirked up at her from his nearly reclined position, "Devil woman, you enjoy stringing me along don't you?"

Ingrid's smile was full blown by now, pearly whites flashing almost wickedly, "I've gotta get my kicks somehow, Kennedy, and short of running off to Europe for my own adventures all I've got is you."

Leon forced himself to sit up fully, legs pulled to one side of the small bed to fall to the floor, only a small grunt of pain released between clenched teeth at the action. His shirt had been removed, probably cut off of him during surgery, but his black slacks remained unharmed except for the occasional stiff spot where blood had dried and disappeared within the dark fabric.

Mindful of the dressings around his chest and shoulder, Ingrid removed the I.V. and then wrapped an arm under Leon's, helping him to his feet where he leaned heavily against her before gaining some semblance of balance.

"Ugh. Europe's over rated. You better just stick to me for a while, I'm not going anywhere in my condition."

'I guess he's staying after all' Ingrid thought, 'If only for a while.' Regardless, the thought almost brought a smile to her lips anyway.

-----

Next: Leon (finally) sets out and runs into some familiar faces

_Chapter Three Completed 11-21-05_


End file.
